


A Picture Out of Better Homes

by rosieeexox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a werewolf, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Stiles is A Stalker, everyone is a werewolf and nobody finds it weird, except maybe scott, it makes him do creepy things, scott is not, stiles has ocd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 11:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosieeexox/pseuds/rosieeexox
Summary: "Since when do you not know where your cups are?""Since someone keeps deciding to reorganize my kitchen."Or the one where Stiles continuously “breaks into” Derek’s apartment and reorganizes his kitchen/life.





	A Picture Out of Better Homes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt is yet again from TFR (are you noticing a trend here?) I should probably stop going on pinterest on my breaks. Title is from Somewhere That’s Green from Little Shop of Horrors.

 

 

 

Stiles would like to consider himself a normal person. Key words: would like to. Because Stiles is decidedly not a normal person. Normal people ask their crushes about the weather or their hobbies or help them move in. Stiles was going for the latter and ended up in Hot New Guy’s apartment. Normal, right? Except that Hot New Guy was apparently not home, but he left the door unlocked and the apartment was basically unpacked. But it was a mess and Stiles was diagnosed with OCD at a very young age and there’s no way he can leave the living room looking the way it does.

 

So he rearranges the magazines on the table by the door and alphabetizes the DVDs under the TV stand. He also unpacks and alphabetizes the books and puts them on the bookshelf. He may or may not take pictures of the authors he doesn’t recognize for future research. He centers the coffee table in the middle of the room and moves the couches and chairs accordingly. He also notices a plant on the dining room table that isn’t getting any sun, so he moves it to the window sill in the living room. 

 

He leaves as soon as he’s satisfied because there’s no way he’d be able to explain to Hot New Guy why he rearranged his entire living room. He goes back to his own apartment and waits for Hot New Guy to get home. 

 

Their apartment building is weirdly shaped, so Stiles’ kitchen window faces Hot New Guy’s living room window, which is how he was able to see that there was a new person moving into Mr. Drammond’s old apartment and that he was hot. Hence the name Hot New Guy. Stiles has been affectionately calling him that since he moved in, which was three days ago. 

 

Stiles turns the light off in his kitchen and sits on the counter so that he can see Hot New Guy come home. When Scott found him like this yesterday he called him a stalker. Which still applies, but at least now Stiles has a reason to be waiting for Hot New Guy to get home. That reason being he technically broke in and rearranged his living room. But still. 

 

He has a whole speech prepared for Scott when he inevitably catches him, but then Hot New Guy’s light flicks on and he practically presses his face against the window. Hot New Guy is carrying a lot of groceries. Like,  _ a lot  _ of groceries. It would have taken Stiles at least three trips to carry that many groceries and this dude is doing it in one. 

 

Hot New Guy disappears into the kitchen where Stiles can’t see him. Stiles can feel his heart pounding. He just wants to see this guys reaction to the living room. Will he even notice? Stiles gets his answer sooner rather than later because Hot New Guy walks back into the living room and freezes. He immediately dons a defensive pose and sniffs the air. What? Stiles gulps as the sudden realization of how creepy and weird he is sets in. Hot New Guy inspects the bookshelf and...laughs? Then he starts pulling books out and rearranging them and Stiles is  _ annoyed.  _ All his hard work. Ruined.

 

He leaves the kitchen in a huff just as Scott is getting home.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks, dropping his keys on the table.

“Nothing.”

“Alright, well, you’ll never guess who I ran into in the grocery store.”

Stiles feels his blood run cold. “Oh no.”

“Yeah! Can you believe it? I was stopping in to pick some soup up for Kira cause she’s sick. I was looking for the chicken and dumplings soup cause, you know, that’s her favorite. But I couldn’t find it. I was walking up and down the aisle for like 20 minutes looking for it and-”

“Scott.” Stiles interrupts. “As riveting as this story about your soup expedition is, can you get to the point?”

“Right. Well, anyway, his name is Derek.”

“Derek.” Stiles repeats.

“Yeah, he just moved here from New York. He’s not much of a talker but we figured out that we lived in the same building and when he told me his apartment number I had to stop myself from laughing because I  _ knew  _ he was the dude you’ve been stalking and-”

“Scott.”

“Right. Well, anyway, I invited him over for pizza tomorrow and I think he might actually come.”

Stiles feels all the color drain from his face. “What.”

“Yeah! Isn’t that great? If he comes, you’ll finally get to meet him and talk to him and not just stare at him with your ass on our kitchen counter.”

Stiles says nothing, just walks out of the living room and into his room and lays on his bed and prays for death. He can hear Scott laughing to himself and groans.

 

Derek doesn’t show. 

 

He does, however, go to the gym. Stiles catches a glimpse of him as the elevator door closes, gym bag in hand. Stiles looks at the plate of cookies he baked, a last ditch welcoming present also known as an excuse to talk to Hot Ne- Derek. He decides to leave them in front of the door. Except the door is cracked and Stiles has to look around wildly to make sure Derek isn’t hiding around the corner waiting to catch him in the act. After a quick inspection of the floor, Stiles decides to open the door. Actually, his arm decides to open the door while his brain is screaming to run back to his own apartment. 

“I’m just gonna leave the cookies on the counter and leave.” Stiles says to himself. He sets the cookies on the kitchen counter and when he turns around to leave, he sees the bookshelf. 

He approaches is slowly, ready to evaluate how long it would take him to re-alphabetize them. But it only takes him a second to realize that when he organized them by title, Derek organized them by author. Stiles laughs a little at that and leaves before he starts messing with something else. 

 

He makes sure to close the door completely and is struck with horror as soon as the door clicks closed. There is literally no explanation for how the cookies got to be on Derek’s kitchen counter. And Stiles signed his  _ name  _ on the post-it he stuck to the container. He tries the door but it’s locked,  _ of course.  _ Stiles groans and trudges back to his apartment.

 

“How’d it go?” Scott asks excitedly.

“Shut up.”

 

Stiles gets home from his morning run the next morning and there’s a post-it on his door. His post-it. From the cookies. There’s a “Thanks.” scribbled below where Stiles signed his name, Scott’s name, and their apartment number. Stiles tucks the post-it into his wallet and decides to whip up a batch of snickerdoodles.

 

Later that night, Derek’s door is cracked,  _ again.  _ This time, Stiles has no idea where he went or when he’ll be back, but he risks it anyway. He puts the cookies on the kitchen counter and eyes a cracked cabinet above the sink.

“I’m not gonna open it.” He tells himself, making his way towards the door. He’s just about to leave when he sighs. “Fuck it.”

 

He opens the cabinet and sees an array of plates, cups, pots, and pans. The next cabinet looks the same. He dares to open to drawers and see’s utensils and cutting boards all mixed together. Another drawer has a utensil organizer, and it’s  _ empty.  _ Stiles sighs again. 

“What is wrong with this guy?”

 

Stiles puts all the cups and glasses in one cabinet, plates (paper and otherwise) in another. Pots and pans went in the cabinet down by the stove. He organized the utensils and put the cutting boards together.

 

The sound of a car door slamming sent Stiles sprinting out of the apartment and back to his own.

 

“I’m not even going to ask.” Scott says, not looking up from his book.

 

The next day, Scott comes home looking suspiciously happy.

“I ran into Derek again today.” He says, before Stiles can even ask.

“That’s cool.”

“He’s coming over in 15 minutes to play Call of Duty.”

Stiles shrieks and runs to his room. He looks down at his dirty sweatpants and kicks them off in disgust. He grabs a pair of jeans and a Duran Duran t-shirt. By the time he makes it back to the living room, Scott is laughing at him.

“That was the fastest I’ve ever seen you move.”

“Shut up.” Stiles huffs, picking up his book and assuming a comfortable, but casual reading position. 

 

After reading the same line a billion times, Stiles sighs.

“Is he actually coming or were you just being a-” Stiles is interrupted by a knock on the door. He has minimal time to freak out before Scott is letting Derek into the apartment and, holy shit, Derek is  _ in  _ his apartment. 

 

“Derek, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is Derek.” Scott introduces them, smirking. 

Stiles stands to shake Derek’s hand and his hand is met with plastic. He looks down to see Derek is handing him two empty cookie containers.

 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Stiles says, ignoring the weird feeling in his gut. “Nice to meet you.”

Derek sniffles and nods, a small smile on his lips. “They were good.”

“Glad you liked them.”

“Let’s order a pizza.” Scott chimes in. Stiles has never been more thankful for an interruption. 

 

Scott was right about Derek not talking much, but Stiles gets a really weird vibe from him. Not a serial killer vibe, but definitely close. Maybe it’s the eyebrows. Or the muscles. Regardless, they order a pizza and sit down on the couch. Derek hands Stiles a controller and Scott laughs.

 

“Yeah right.”

Derek looks at Scott, confused.

“Stiles doesn’t play.” He informs him.

“I don’t have much hand-eye coordination.” Stiles says with a shrug.

Derek looks at him oddly, but sets the controller back on the table. He’s sitting in the middle of the couch and Stiles is having a very large internal freak out about having to sit next to him.

“Are you okay?” Derek asks him. “You s- you look weird.”

“Thanks so much.” Stiles replies sarcastically, his instinct coming in. “I’m fine.”

Derek shrugs and turns his full attention back to the game.

 

Stiles takes this opportunity to evaluate his life. He has been breaking into Derek’s apartment for almost a week now. It’s unlikely Derek knew Stiles was the one who rearranged the living room, but after the cookie incident, or incidents, he’s probably connected the dots. That would explain why he left his door cracked after finding Stiles a non-threat. Or maybe he’s super confident in his muscles and ability to kick anyone’s ass who might break in or try to rob him and realized Stiles was just harmlessly rearranging his entire apartment and also bringing him cookies. Basically, Derek is acting like he has no idea about anything and Stiles sure as hell isn’t going to bring it up. The only thing he’s gained from this is that he gets to look at Derek out of the corner of his eye for the next few hours. 

 

The pizza arrives and Stiles is impressed that Derek might be the only one who can beat him in an eating contest. He tells Derek as much, but he only shrugs. Whatever. 

 

The longer Derek stays in their apartment, the more Stiles’ crush on Derek disintegrated. Alright, maybe Stiles is being dramatic. He’s hot, yeah. Definitely hot. But he’s also kind of socially challenged and it comes off as rude and everyone knows Stiles likes to talk so how is he supposed to get along with someone who is the exact opposite of that? Scott and Derek, unsurprisingly, are getting along great. They’re playing video games so the majority of their interactions are just yelling for one of them to kill another player or other weird instructions Stiles doesn’t understand. He’s not jealous, but he does sort of wish him and Derek had something in common. He decides to grab a soda from the fridge. 

 

He reenters the living room and Derek chokes on his sip of water.

_ Well, at least it’s a reaction.  _ Stiles thinks to himself. He quirks an eyebrow at Derek who gets himself under control pretty quickly.

“Nice shirt.” Derek mumbles.

“Thanks!” Stiles perks up. “You like Duran Duran?”

“Uh, just that one song.”

“Which one?”

Derek nods his head in the direction of Stiles. “That one.”

“Hungry Like the Wolf?” Stiles asks, looking down at the giant wolf depicted on his shirt.

“Yeah.” Derek nods once. 

“Cool. Yeah, that’s a good one. You ever seen the music video?”

Derek shakes his head no.

“Dude!” Stiles plops down on the couch next to him and signals for Scott to pause the game. He pulls up the music video on his phone. They’re sitting pretty close, which Stiles only realizes when he looks at Derek to gauge his reaction to the music video. 

“There’s no wolves in it.” Derek says dumbly after Stiles locks his phone.

“No,” Stiles chuckles. “But I have a theory that Andy Taylor is supposed to be a werewolf.”

Derek’s leg jerks and Stiles jumps back, sitting a more appropriate distance away. Derek laughs tensely and restarts the game, causing Scott to grab his controller and resume playing.

 

Stiles frowns. Great. Now Derek thinks he’s a loser who believes in werewolves and shit. He should’ve just taken the compliment about his shirt and let it go. Although it was nice to have his shoulder brushing against Derek’s. Even though Derek kept sniffling, Stiles wouldn’t mind if he got sick. 

 

After what feels like years of watching them play Call of Duty, Stiles decides to call it a night. 

“We’ll only be up a little longer.” Scott tells him. “We’ll try and be quiet.”

“Alright. Night, dude.” Stiles makes his way towards his room, but stops. “Night, Derek.”

Derek salutes him, not taking his eyes off the TV. Weirdo. 

Stiles sighs as he crawls into bed. He can hear Scott and Derek yelling in the living room. Well, more so Scott yelling and Derek grunting and huffing out the occasional “Shit.” Stiles’ mind wonders and, as much as he hates himself for it, he can’t help but feel a little turned on by Derek’s grunting. Oh God, was he really going to jerk off to Derek while he was in the living room? No. Absolutely not. He clenches his fist at his sides but then Derek gives a particularly long groan and Stiles’ pants are off before he even knows what he’s doing.

 

Whatever. Nobody has to know.

 

It’s a few days later that Stiles decides he’s going to make Derek brownies. He saw a new recipe online and Scott won’t eat sweets so there’s really no other option. This time, however, Derek’s door is closed. Stiles glares at the door and debates knocking. 

He goes back to his apartment and eats the entire tray of brownies instead. They’re delicious, but it doesn’t stop his sour mood. 

 

The next day, he makes macaroons. He makes them yellow, like the moon, and hopes Derek gets the joke. This time, the door is cracked and Stiles rolls his eyes.

 

He wants to put the macaroons in the fridge so the humidity doesn’t make the cookie soggy, but the large pan won’t fit in the fridge. He opens the cabinet he remembers putting the tupperware in and frowns when he realizes it’s the farthest cabinet from the fridge  _ and  _ the stove.

“Well that doesn’t make any sense.” Stiles says to himself. 

So he re-rearranges Derek’s kitchen. The cups make more sense to be by the fridge. And the plates should be closer to the stove. He moves the utensils one drawer over so that the cutting boards can be right under the empty counter space by the knife block. 

_ Much better.  _ Stiles thinks, nodding at the new and improved kitchen. He dumps the macaroons into the now easier to reach tupperware and puts them in the fridge. He sticks a post-it on the counter and scribbles “Fridge -Stiles” on it before closing the door behind him. 

 

Scott comes home 20 minutes later. 

“I just ran into Derek in the elevator. He said we’re invited to his apartment in an hour. Apparently his friends from New York is visiting and they’re gonna order Chinese and hang out. You wanna go?”

_ No.  _ Stiles thinks. “Sure.” Is what he says. 

 

Great. Now he has to hang out in Derek’s apartment. With Derek. 

 

Derek’s friends turn out to be a  _ very  _ pretty blonde named Erica and her  _ very  _ intimidating boyfriend, who is also very attractive, named Boyd. It makes sense, considering Derek is basically the hottest guy Stiles has ever seen. Naturally, he’d have hot friends. Now Stiles has to hang out in Derek’s apartment. With Derek. And his hot friends. What could go wrong?

 

He doesn’t have to wait long for an answer to that questions. Scott announces he’s going to grab a drink from the kitchen and asks Derek where his cups are. Stiles feels his blood run cold before Derek even answers.

“No idea.”

“What?” Scott laughs. 

“They’re in there somewhere.”

“Since when do you not know where your cups are?” Erica asks him. 

_ Oh God. Oh no. This is it. Everything is about to get so, so weird.  _

“Since someone keeps deciding to reorganize my kitchen.” Derek answers nonchalantly. 

“Someone as in…” Erica trails off, quirking an eyebrow suspiciously.

Derek shrugs and Stiles is convinced everyone in the room can hear how hard his heart is beating. 

“Derek Hale, do you have a secret boyfriend you’re not telling us about?” 

“What? Erica, no-”

Stiles is trying to process the fact that Erica said “boyfriend” which means that Derek likes boys and Stiles is a boy and Stiles likes Derek and now there is a possibility that Derek would like Stiles if he wasn’t such a fucking stalker and holy shit did Erica just ask-

“Is it Stiles?”

“What?” Now it’s Scott’s turn to be confused.

“No!” Derek and Stiles answer in unison.

“Okay, okay. Sorry! I just assumed because his heart rate is like  _ way _ -”

“Erica,” Derek says, his voice lower than Stiles has ever heard it. “Stop talking.”

 

There is a very awkward silence and then Stiles is wordlessly leaving Derek’s apartment. He can hear Scott stuttering out an apology before following him out the door. They make it back to their apartment and Stiles doesn’t even have a second to breathe before Scott is looking at him like he’s about to ask a million questions.

“Scott-”

“Do you get a very weird feeling from the three of them?”

“Wait, what?”

“Like, Erica said that thing about your heart rate and Derek is always sniffing you and he freaked out when you guys were watching that music video so like, you don’t think-”

“Holy shit.” Stiles breathes.

“Holy shit I’m an idiot or holy shit I’m right?”

“Holy shit you figured it out before me. That  _ never  _ happens.”

“Do you really think they’re-”

“Well if they are then they can totally hear us and know we figured it out and there will be a knock on our door any second which will either lead to a very beautiful friendship or a very graphic death for the two of us.”

Scott is about to respond when there is a knock on the door. Stiles slowly opens the door and is only somewhat relieved to see Derek. All of the relief comes from the fact that the last thing he’ll see is Derek before he dies and he doesn’t even care that Derek’s going to be the one to kill him because he is so Goddamn  _ hot.  _

“We need to talk.” Is all Derek says before walking back to his apartment. 

Stiles gives Scott a wild look and follows Derek.

“We’re gonna fucking die.” Scott mumbles.

Erica and Boyd are on the couch when they walk in looking apologetic. It makes Stiles relax. Slightly.

“I want to apologize.” Erica says calmly. “I assumed you and Derek were dating and he was hiding it from us. And if you two were dating then you’d obviously know about all the werewolf stuff so, yeah. Sorry to freak you out and I swear we’re not going to kill you.”

“I still don’t understand why you thought they were dating.” Scott says, taking the words right out of Stiles’ mouth.

“Well besides the fact that his scent is  _ all over  _ this apartment-” Boyd starts.

“How? This is the first time we’ve been here.” Scott sounds as hysterical as Stiles feels

“His heart was beating so fast I thought he was gonna go into cardiac arrest when Derek was talking about someone rearranging his kitchen.” Erica adds, ignoring Scott.

“Yeah, I can explain that.” Stiles says, finally finding his voice. “I’ve been, uh, I guess technically breaking into Derek’s apartment and like, unpacking it?” He’s met with blank expressions and he doesn’t dare look at Derek. “Like, the first time I just wanted to see if he needed help unpacking. And the door was unlocked so I kind of rearranged the living room and unpacked the books and, I don’t know it’s kind of embarrassing and pretty creepy now that I think about it but my OCD kicked in and I couldn’t help myself. And then the next time-”

“The next time.” Scott repeats.

“Yeah, uh, the next time I just wanted to bring by some ‘welcome to the building cookies’ and the door was cracked so I let myself in and put them on the counter. And then I realized that I signed my name on the cookie container so he’d know I was in his apartment and realize it was probably me who rearranged his living room but he didn’t say anything so I figured he was cool with it. So like, the next time-”

“Jesus.” Scott whispers.

“I kind of rearranged the kitchen after I realized everything was kinda just thrown into the cabinets. Like, there was an empty utensil organizer in a drawer and then a whole mess of utensils just thrown in the next drawer over. It didn’t make any sense and I figured he hadn’t said anything about it before so it was probably cool if I did it again. So I did. Again.”

“Like a third time?” Scott asks, bewildered.

“Fives times.” Derek finally chimes in.

“The brownies don’t count.” Stiles says defensively.

Derek quirks an eyebrow. 

“Alright, fine. Yes, five times. Technically four but I tried five times so, whatever.” 

“Stiles.” Scott says, his eyes wide.

“Well that explains your scent being everywhere.” Boyd shrugs

 

Everyone is way too calm for the current situation and it’s making Stiles want to freak out. Instead, it’s Scott that freaks out.

“So my friend has been breaking into your apartment since you moved in and that somehow lead to us finding out that you guys are werewolves and I seem to be the only one freaking out about any of this information.”

“Werewolves have a really good sense of hearing smell.” Derek explains. “The first time Stiles was in my apartment I didn’t recognize his scent, but nothing was stolen and my living room looked awesome so I figured it was the landlord or something. But then by the bookshelf I also caught your scent, Scott, and I had just met you at the grocery store so I figured it was your roommate. Your scents are pretty mixed together since you guys live together.”

Scott was nodding along wordlessly so Derek continued. 

“And then after the cookie incident I realized how harmless it was and my apartment was actually being organized so I wasn’t exactly going to complain. So I just let it happen and figure it would all come out eventually. Which it did.”

“I feel like we’re glossing over the fact that you’re a freaking werewolf.” Is Scott’s only response.

“Yeah,” Derek sighs. “That was an unforeseen addition to Stiles admitting he’s been subtly rearranging my life.”

There’s a slightly less awkward silence before Stiles chuckles. 

“The cups are in the cabinet to the right of the fridge.”

Derek laughs at that.

 

“Well, now that that’s settled,” Erica says brightly. “Let’s finish up this Chinese food.”

So they do.

They eat and realize there’s no way they’re going to finish all the food, so Scott invites Kira over.

They argue over a show to watch on Netflix. Stiles suggests True Blood which earns him a punch from Scott. They eventually decide on Black Mirror and Stiles settles into the end of the couch next to Derek. 

 

He’s thinking about that fact that Derek can definitely smell Stiles’ crush on him and still has been hanging out and what that could possibly mean when he suddenly remembers that time he jerked off while Derek was in the living room and becomes momentarily horrified before Derek shifts so that he can put his arm around Stiles. Stiles leans into the touch and warmth of Derek’s body and is grateful to have already seen every episode of Black Mirror because he is definitely not paying attention. 

 

Scott and Kira leave after three episodes. Erica and Boyd retire to the guest room after the fourth. Which leaves Stiles and Derek on the couch, still sitting very close together despite the rest of the couch being empty. 

“I guess I should probably get going.” Stiles says softly after the fifth episode ends.

“Okay.” Derek says, standing. Stiles misses his warmth immediately.

“We’re cool, right?” Stiles asks, hovering in the doorway.

“Yes, Stiles.” Derek smiles. “We’re cool.”

“Alright good.” Stiles sighs.

“We’d be even cooler if you remade those brownies and actually let me try them this time.”

Stiles feels his face turn red. “I guess I can do that.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Stiles says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, then I guess I can let you kiss me.”

Stiles glares at him, but there’s no malice behind it. 

Then Derek is chuckling and has Stiles’ face in his hands and then they’re kissing and Stiles realizes he would make Derek brownies every day for the rest of his life if it meant Derek would keep kissing him. 

 

“See you tomorrow.” Stiles mumbles, still close enough that his lips brush against Derek’s. 

“See you.” Derek whispers, inhaling deeply.

 

The next day Stiles brings over two trays of brownies and rearranges the medicine cabinet after using the bathroom.

 

A year later when they finally move in together, Stiles rearranges Derek’s bedroom so that all their stuff can fit. While he’s sorting through the sock drawer he finds a ring. He’s about to yell at Derek to invest in a jewelry box when he turns to find Derek down on one knee. 

 

They get married the following summer and Derek’s vows include a very cliche line about Stiles “rearranging his heart.”

 

Scott cries. 

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated :)


End file.
